


Love is like a forest; you can’t find one without snakes

by DarkmoonSigel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Touch-Starved, Touching, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:48:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Quote is from ‘love quotes’ via the Internet.





	Love is like a forest; you can’t find one without snakes

**Author's Note:**

> More fluff! I can’t be stopped!

Like everything that had gone between them, it was a slow start of it. Armageddon thwarted, the pair found that they had unprecedented freedom now, disowned alike by both Heaven and Hell. Earth was their home now, their side of everything. God must have approved on some level because both still had their ethereal and demonic powers. 

Crowley giddily hoped that their higher ups knew this, or if they didn’t, would give them a reason to show them what’s what. Aziraphale had holy water in abundance at hand while Crowley always had a little bit of hellfire ready in his coat pocket.

The end of days sorted out, the pair realized that they had been dancing around each other for so long, neither one knew when to take lead so they ended up playing a lot of it by ear. One of them had to be brave from time to time.

Little things that both noticed while holding combined tentative breaths until the other nodded or smiled. Like how Aziraphale started to take off Crowley’s sunglasses for him whenever they were in private.

“May I?” 

The angel was gesturing to his glasses, reaching for them, but refraining from making any move to take them off of Crowley’s face, at least not without his permission.

“Now why would you go and ask a stupid thing like that?” Crowley asked weakly, inclining his head to allow it. Hastur had all but crumbled them off his face. In comparison, Aziraphale’s touch was far more light, almost reverent. 

“Ask what, my dear?” Aziraphale said, setting the glasses aside within Crowley’s reach, but still out of their way. 

Crowley tried to glare at the angel, but it was a difficult thing to pull off when his angel was smiling so sweetly at him.

“There is no need for you to have them on when we’re alone.” Aziraphale said, leaning in to cup Crowley’s cheek so the serpent couldn’t look away. “Ever.”

“I don’t get a say in it?” Crowley drawled out, already knowing the answer.

“No, I’m afraid not. More wine?” Aziraphale said, because the angel loved Crowley’s eyes. He had for a very, very long time, except the demon didn’t really fully realize that just yet. 

“...yes.” Crowley finally said, trying to look anywhere else except for Aziraphale’s own ice blue grey pale gaze until the angel reached over to tilt the demon’s chin up. The angel leaned in for a quick kiss, a simple press of lips really before getting up to refill the wine. It made Crowley do a long slow blink, processing what had just happened. Aziraphale thought the held look made the demon’s eyes look like two gold coins. 

Another time, Aziraphale walked in on Crowley grooming his wings. Jet black wings, already looking immaculate, distracted Aziraphale as he let himself into the demon’s flat. 

“Sorry, angel! I’ll be done in a minute. Lost track of time is all.” Crowley preened as he preened. He knew how lovely his well groomed wings looked. Seating on his enormous bed, the demon stretched out his wings, more to show off than anything. 

“Please don’t stop on account of me” Aziraphale said, already reaching before he could stop himself. Crowley froze as fingers dug into his more downy feathers near the base. 

“Angel...” Crowley stammered. He hadn’t had his wings groomed by another since the Fall. Demons did not follow the practices of Heaven, which included mutual grooming by another.

“Hush...I’m just taking care of a few stray feathers.” Aziraphale said, though he became very involved with his task, liking how Crowley melted underneath his touch. “Be done in a tick.”

It was more like many a tick and a lot of tocks really, Aziraphale being meticulous, and Crowley being unable to stop the angel even if he wanted to. He was boneless by the time the angel was done with his pinfeathers. 

“Oh dear, I do believe we will be canceling our reservation at the Ritz this evening.” Aziraphale hummed out, observing that Crowley was only staying upright because he was leaning up against the angel  
like Aziraphale was the last solid thing in the world that mattered right now. 

Deciding for them both, Aziraphale released his own wings, bringing them forward to cocoon Crowley in pure celestial white, the demon falling into a blissful sleep.

Kissing was an art, each having their own signature style. Aziraphale’s specialty were myriads of featherlight kisses, the kind you would miss if you falling asleep, or not paying attention. Crowley would be drunk and drowsy from good company and the fire.

“Are you done for the evening, my dear?” Aziraphale would ask softly, securing Crowley’s wineglass for him, leaning in to press tender kisses on the demon’s brow and cheeks before pressing more hurried sweetness to his slack lips. 

“Not if you keep doing that, angel.”  
Crowley murmured, reaching out to pull Aziraphale in close. 

Crowley’s kisses were the sneaky sort, placed upon his target when they least expected it, much to the chagrin of others who happened to be around them at the time. 

“Oh, that was scrumptious.” A Zira sighed in complete contentment, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. 

“Come here, angel.” Crowley said, gesturing the angel inward. 

“Do I have something...” Aziraphale began to be cut off by lips pressed solidly to his own, Crowley all but climbing into the angel’s lap to deliver his message. 

“Well, you don’t anymore.” Crowley said, licking Aziraphale’s lips clean for him. Their waiter was not very appreciative about any of it. 

Touching came in bits and pieces as well. It started off with Crowley touching the small of Aziraphale’s back to let him know that he was near. Just a light passing touch as the demon swaggering into the shop, making his way to the back room. In turn, Crowley would wake up from naps with Aziraphale’s fingers combing through his hair. 

“Do you know how much I love you, my dearest one?”

“I do, but be a love, and tell me again anyway, angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Your comments get stuck with the Ritz’s bill. Your kudos hide out in the bookshop.


End file.
